


Talking In Reverse

by Imagined



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Coffee Shops, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt Stephen Strange, Idiots in Love, Italian Tony Stark, Language Barrier, Light Angst, M/M, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 15:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20509166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagined/pseuds/Imagined
Summary: Stephen doesn't believe in love at first sight, but even he can't deny that Tony Carbonell has caught his attention in a way he can't explain. From the minute he steps into the coffee shop Stephen works at, there's an unspeakable attraction between them. It's mostly unspeakable because of one small, tiny, inconsequential detail: Tony is Italian and doesn't know any English. Or that's what it looks like, at least.Not that Stephen will let something as trivial as a language barrier stop him from dating Tony. Even if Tony seems to be keeping some things from him.





	Talking In Reverse

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【授翻/奇异铁】逆向交谈](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20842556) by [Clover_cherik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clover_cherik/pseuds/Clover_cherik)

> After the angst fest that was my last fic, here's something sweet and fluffy. As always, it got way longer than intended. Who's surprised by now, eh? I'm incredibly grateful towards my [ dearest Mara](http://starkparker.tumblr.com), without whom this fic would include Google Translate-Italian (or even more probable, not exist at all). After all, my Dutch ass doesn't know any Italian at all. Except the swear words, but Mara's to blame for that as well.
> 
> Translation of all Italian phrases can be found in the end notes :)
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes. I've been ill for a couple of days now and writing and editing is giving me a headache (not that it's stopping me from doing it anyway...), so I might've missed more stuff than usually.

Stephen first sees him on a Friday afternoon.

All students are coming in for their daily shots and the place is more crowded than usual. It means that Stephen is busy taking orders from everyone who sits down, making them, and listening to the students complain about their assignments – and sometimes the coffee, but he generally tries to avoid dealing with those type of customers. Considering Bruce is sick, it’s only him and Christine.

Two students, by the look of them, have taken place – a strawberry-blonde girl and a boy with soft dark curls and deep eyes.

Stephen almost stills at the sight of the boy. He is normally a stoic person, not much struck by people’s appearances, but this guy is stunning. His rich blue sweater complements his sun-kissed skin, snuggly fitting his lean figure. The moment his dark eyes find Stephen’s, he has to take a moment to find back his voice.

‘’Uh – how can I help you?’’ he asks quickly, trying to glance at the girl for a change.

She smiles wryly. ‘’I’d like a cup of coffee – milk, no sugar. Tony, what do you want?’’

The boy – Tony? – regards him for a few long seconds. It’s almost enough to make him squirm where he’s standing, but he manages to write down the girl’s order. When the boy opens his mouth, however, it’s not English that comes out. ‘’_Mi sta fissando. È anche davvero carino. Credi che gli piaccia_?’’

‘’_Non dargli fastidio, digli solo cosa vuoi ordinare_.’’

‘’_Era così per dire. Aspetta, voglio sapere se pensa che io sia carino. Lasciagli pensare che non sappia parlare inglese. Digli che voglio la bevanda più dolce che hanno._’’

The girl sighs as she turns back to him. ‘’Sorry about that,’’ she smiles pleasantly, and brushes away some hair from her forehead. ‘’He’s from Italy. He wants the bitterest drink you have – just coffee, no sugar and no milk.’’

Stephen nods slowly, despite the frown that Tony seems to send to send the girl. He almost feels as if they were talking about him, but he shrugs it off – it’s probably nothing. ‘’Alright,’’ he mutters and scribbles it on his pad. ‘’Two cups of coffee, one with milk and the other black. Coming right up.’’

‘’Thank you,’’ the girl says, showing her pearly white teeth and dismisses him as she turns back to her friend. Stephen wonders if they are a couple; Tony holds his gaze for a second longer before he starts talking to his companion again. Stephen leaves, feeling oddly flushed.

He puts it out of his mind and goes over to the next table, taking the order of three lanky girls who each want to order something oddly specific and complicated and seem to take offense that they do not generally put whipped cream on their drinks.

It takes a full five minutes to get their order straight, and Stephen eventually just caves in to a demand to make a drink that they don’t even have just to get it over and done with. He sighs as he gets back to the counter, meeting Christine.

‘’When did this shop become so popular?’’ he mutters, starting to make the plain coffee first. The Italian boy and the girl have been waiting for longer than he generally wants to let people wait and he’s anxious to get their order to them; they don’t seem like the sort of people who will start shouting at staff, but one can never know.

‘’That other place closed a month ago,’’ Christine tells him, and she shrugs while wiping the counter and grabbing two muffins to bring to customers. ‘’It’s good for business. We’re getting all the students now.’’

Boston is full of students in need of caffeine, after all. Stephen is one of them himself, the majority of the time. Being a med student is tiring, when it comes down to it.

‘’Well, they’re not paying me more for it,’’ Stephen mutters. Being a med student is tiring and expensive. He adds milk to one of the cups and moves again, bringing it to the right table.

‘’_Grazie_,’’ the boy says, taking his cup eagerly. His eyes flick to the girl as he takes an experimental sip, as she takes her own cup with a kind smile at Stephen.

‘’Can I get you anything else?’’ he asks. He doesn’t mean to linger, but Tony seems to grimace as he puts down his cup. ‘’Is the coffee wrong?’’

The girl pats the boy’s hand. There’s something knowing in her eyes. ‘’No, he’s fine. I’m sorry – Stephen, is your name?’’ He starts before he realizes she must’ve looked at his name tag, and offers a sharp nod. She continues. ‘’Could you watch over Tony here, for a while? I’ll be back soon, but I don’t want him walking off. He’s not familiar with the city and he doesn’t know any English.’’

Stephen grimaces, watching the coffeeshop. Most people are slowly leaving, but it is still busy, and he can’t let Christine run the place by herself. The three girls with the complicated orders are also starting to look pretty pissed. ‘’I don’t –‘’ he starts.

‘’Don’t worry, he won’t run off,’’ she assures him. ‘’Just give him coffee when he starts to look antsy. It helps. I’ll be back soon!’’

With that, she walks off, leaving Stephen standing at her table with Tony and two steaming cups of coffee. The girl hasn’t even touched hers. ‘’Pepper!’’ the boy yells after her, but she just waves happily and exits.

Stephen sighs. ‘’You’re not that helpless, are you?’’ The boy merely blinks at him, opening his mouth as if to say something and closing it again, just shrugging at him. Stephen shakes his head. ‘’Your name was Tony, right?’’

‘’Tony Carbonell,’’ the boy tells him, just watching him attentively.

Stephen points to his own name tag. ‘’Stephen Strange,’’ he informs him, trying to talk clearly. Tony lifts his left eyebrow not unattractively, watching him with some amusement. Alright, so maybe he doesn’t speak English, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand anything. Stephen feels the heat rise to his cheeks. 

‘’I’ll be right back,’’ he says, enunciating clearly while he feels like a fool. Talking slower will not help Tony understand a language he doesn’t know, and yet he doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t even know what to gesture to make to make his meaning clear. He stares at Tony for a while, willing him to understand; it lasts a whole two seconds before he turns, starting to feel embarrassed.

He doesn’t even want to know what Tony must think of him. He shakes it off and starts working on the order for the three girls. They do not look like patient customers; maybe if they’re not happy they won’t come back at all. Stephen wouldn’t mind, but he was hired to help the business, and he feels too responsible to just scare off people from coming here.

It takes him a little more time than usual to deal with their orders; when he brings it to the girls, they roll their eyes at him, not even thanking him before they sip on their drinks. Stephen feels a headache coming up already as he gets to the next table to get their order.

In thirty-five minutes, most of the customers have left and are on their way home. Stephen finds a moment alone behind the coffeemaker as he gets himself a glass of water, taking off his apron for a moment. He hates the busy moments when he has to work so hard without even getting any fulfilment out of it. Christine eyes him as she brings back a tray of used cups. ‘’You look tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night?’’

‘’I had that paper,’’ he mutters. ‘’I had to redo Nicodemus’ bit, because he made some huge errors. I’m not giving a presentation when he is saying blatantly incorrect stuff.’’

‘’I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,’’ Christine tries, but grimaces at his frown. She knows fully well that Nicodemus West is one of the worst students and about his disdain for Stephen – it’s just Stephen’s luck that he was paired off with him in this project. It basically means doing twice the amount of work. ‘’Look, just have a break. Go sit for ten minutes. It’s not busy now, I’ll handle the rest of the orders.’’

Normally, he’d refuse and help out. His shift isn’t over for two more hours, though, and he already feels like he can’t stand up for much longer. So he nods at her gratefully and takes a sip of his water, leaning against the counter as Christine moves. Stephen’s eyes fall on the Italian boy, still sitting in the corner. He hasn’t ordered anything else, despite the fact that his cup of coffee has long been emptied.

In a split second, he walks over and takes the second seat. Tony’s eyes look up; a warm brown meeting Stephen’s blue. He tries for a smile. ‘’Hi,’’ he says. ‘’Did you enjoy the coffee?’’

Tony just stares at him as if he’s thinking really hard. Stephen points to the now empty cup and puts up his thumb before putting it down, trying to convey his question. He doesn’t even know why he tries, but he exaggerates his happy expression as he puts up his thumb, and makes a frown when he puts it down.

Tony laughs at him at that. ‘’_Sì, ma non è quello che volevo_,’’ he says, and there’s a teasing quality to his voice even if he doesn’t understand what he is saying.

Stephen smiles. ‘’I have no idea what you’re saying,’’ he tells him, ‘’but I’m going to assume that it is a good thing. And you don’t seem to know what I’m saying either, so at least we’re having the same issues.’’

The boy just tilts his head at that and narrows his eyes, looking like he’s trying to figure Stephen out. ‘’_Sei carino_.’’

He grimaces, trying to hear something familiar in the words and failing. ‘’I’m sorry I don’t know any Italian. I’d love to be able to talk to you.’’

Tony smiles at him at that – and he really is beautiful. Stephen doesn’t often feel so nervous just talking to someone. At least he won’t make a fool of himself this time around – he can’t stammer at Tony. Well, he can, but Tony won’t know what he is saying. As long as Stephen manages to sound smooth, maybe he can – well, what?

He can’t ask Tony out on a date, if the boy is even interested. He wouldn’t know where to start, even. And he feels loathe to start looking for catch phrases in Italian on Google Translate – for one thing, he would hate accidentally saying something wrong, even if he has the excuse of not knowing the language at all.

Even if he managed to convey his meaning to Tony, there’s no saying it would work. There is nothing they’d be able to talk about on a date, if Stephen would manage to convince Tony to take a chance on him. He knows nothing about this boy except for his name and nationality.

And yet. Tony’s smile isn’t wavering, his eyes focused on his. ‘’_A cosa stai pensando_?’’ Tony asks, something uncertain to his voice.

‘’You don’t understand anything I’m saying, do you?’’ Stephen sighs. ‘’What am I even thinking? I’m lousy at asking someone out in English, never mind me trying it in Italian. And you don’t know me, and I don’t know you. For all you know, I’m rambling about the weather. That may work better, anyway.’’

Tony’s lips tilt. If Stephen didn’t know better, he’d almost say that the boy understands what he’s saying. ‘’Stephen –‘’ he starts, but the return of the girl cuts him off.

‘’I’m back,’’ she says, grinning at Stephen. He stands up quickly, suddenly feeling as if he’s interfering with something that is already here. ‘’You two had fun?’’

‘’Uh – I should get back to work,’’ Stephen stammers, trying to smile at her. He feels like he’s not actually succeeding, and his heart beats in his chest loudly. He feels so stupid, all of a sudden; he can’t flirt with Tony, because they don’t speak the same language. For all he knows, he is dating the girl – Pepper – already. ‘’It was nice to meet you.’’

‘’Let me pay for the coffee,’’ Pepper says, taking out her wallet.

‘’No, it’s fine,’’ Stephen says, and he has no idea why he does. ‘’It’s on the house.’’

She narrows his eyes at him and then at Tony. He doesn’t know if she is going to say something, but Stephen just tries for a smile again and hurries back to the counter. Quickly wiping it with a cloth – though it’s already spotless thanks to Christine – he pretends to be busy as he sees the two customers talk quietly among themselves before leaving.

Tony eyes him one last time before he walks out of the door. Stephen quickly looks away, trying not to give his humiliation away.

Christine appears from behind the back, looking at him as she tilts her head. ‘’What did you do?’’ she says immediately.

Stephen sighs and tells her about Tony.

~*~

Stephen doesn’t particularly enjoy working in the coffeeshop. But he’s a med student, and he needs the money, so he took the job when Christine mentioned the vacancy. By now, he has been there for three months and fits right into the team. There’s Christine and Bruce, who he already knows, but he’s also come to know to the manager, a bald woman who they just call ‘The Ancient One’ on account of her looking like a high sorcerer and her right-hand Karl Mordo. The manager is barely ever there – partly the reason that Stephen doesn’t know her actual name – but Mordo is always ready to stare daggers at them for not doing their work properly.

It is a decent pay and good hours, and he has friends there. It’s enough to make the rude customers and long shifts manageable.

And now the Italian boy keeps coming back, quickly turning into one of his regulars.

The first time Tony came back, Stephen wasn’t at work – but Christine was, and she’d recognized him. Stephen, when hearing about it, had only thought it a coincidence. He doesn’t know how long Tony is staying in Boston, after all, or if he’s staying anywhere nearby. It might just be that this is the nearest coffee shop for him.

The second time he comes back, however, Stephen is there.

~*~

It’s as if he is waiting specifically for Stephen. His fingers are tapping on the table, crumbs still lying on it from the former customer.

For a moment, Stephen freezes. Tony’s eyes meet his and a half-grin appears on his lips. He holds up his hand in a universal greeting and Stephen waits for a single moment, uncertain whether to greet him back or act as if he doesn’t remember him at all.

He walks over. ‘’Hi there,’’ he says, trying to pretend that he hasn’t been thinking about the Italian boy ever since he first walked in. ‘’Tony, wasn’t it?’’

Tony appears to understand him, his eyes glittering. ‘’Stephen,’’ he answers with a nod. From that one word, one wouldn’t be able to tell Tony doesn’t know any English.

Stephen is wearing his name plate as always, but Tony didn’t even have to look. In fact, his eyes haven’t left Stephen’s face at all. He feels a blush creeping in but tries to hide behind his notepad. ‘’Have you decided yet?’’ he asks.

Tony points to the menu – Stephen doesn’t know if he knows what it means, but he’ll give him the benefit of the doubt – and Stephen brings his order to him a few minutes later. It goes like this a few more days – Stephen will be working and Tony will order coffee. Stephen will bring it to him and Tony will smile softly, eyeing him. Stephen will have trouble breathing for a second before he leaves.

It’s been two weeks when something else happens.

~*~

It’s a Sunday at the end of his shift, and he’s just readying the last orders he has to make before Bruce comes in to cover for him. When he turns to put the cups of coffee on his tray, he catches sight of the boy coming in through the door.

He almost drops his tray when Tony sees him too – the boy almost brightens up, and Stephen remembers Christine telling him that he was there earlier as well. ‘’Hi,’’ Stephen says when the boy walks up to the counter. ‘’Do you want – uh, coffee?’’ He points at the cup that is already on his counter, trying to make clear what he means. Of course Tony knows well enough what Stephen is asking him, considering all of their conversations have been like this so far: Tony ordering coffee and Stephen bringing it to him.

Tony grins at him. ‘’_Sì_,’’ he states, and Stephen knows enough to be aware that is a positive.

‘’Alright,’’ he says, still feeling a bit surprised. ‘’Just go sit somewhere, and I’ll come help you after.’’

He isn’t sure whether Tony understands what he means, but sure enough, the boy picks an empty booth and sits down, playing with his phone. Stephen brings the coffee to the customers and gets back to the counter. Bruce is already standing there, ready to take over with a quick smile. ‘’We’re working a shift together tomorrow, right?’’ his co-worker asks him.

‘’Yes, but – can you let me finish one last order?’’ Stephen asks.

Bruce tilts his head. ‘’Don’t you want to go home?’’

He does. He is tired and he has a test coming up he needs to study for. But Tony is sitting right there, and Stephen hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him since he last came in. ‘’It’s just – you can handle the rest, I’ll just do one order,’’ he says. ‘’I’ll go home after helping him.’’

Bruce frowns at him, but lets it go. ‘’Alright,’’ he answers.

Stephen smiles and hangs up his apron – he isn’t at work anymore, after all. Not officially. He brings over the one coffee to Tony, setting it before him. Tony looks up at him and smiles. ‘’_Grazie, tesoro_,’’ he says, his eyes glittering. Stephen wonders what he just said.

Feeling a bit bold, he sits on the other side of the booth. Tony just tilts his head, but his smile grows a bit more mischievous. ‘’Are you positive you don’t know any English?’’ Stephen says. ‘’It’s probably a good thing you don’t. I’m hoping I come over smoother if you don’t hear what I’m saying. We can pretend I just said a horribly flirty thing and that it was received well.’’

‘’_Ti preferisco così, credo_,’’ Tony says. For all Stephen knows, he is talking about the weather – maybe he is insulting Stephen, or asking him to leave. Though from the way he’s smiling at him, Stephen thinks that maybe it’s none of that. Maybe he didn’t come back for the coffee. He certainly doesn’t seem very interested in it.

He shouldn’t get his hopes up. Tony doesn’t speak any English, and Stephen doesn’t know Italian. Even if Tony is interested in _him_, there’s no way that would work. He just smiles back.

Bruce suddenly stands beside him. ‘’Is this the reason you’re staying after your shift?’’ he asks in humour. ‘’This is the Italian guy you have a crush on?’’

‘’Bruce,’’ Stephen says, trying not to hiss at him. ‘’You don’t _know that_. Did Christine tell you that? It’s not a crush – it’s – he’s sitting right there!’’

‘’And he doesn’t speak any English, so does it matter?’’ Bruce asks, pushing up his glasses. ‘’I heard the Italian, and I assumed – correctly, by the way. Stephen, you haven’t had a date in months. For an incredibly smart guy, you’re very stupid. Ask him out.’’

‘’I don’t know any Italian,’’ he says, glancing back at Tony. The Italian boy just sits there, slowly sipping his coffee, looking between them. ‘’Look, can you just go?’’

Bruce grins. ‘’Sure. Just give him your phone number, that should do the trick.’’

‘’Just go,’’ he tries again, looking at Tony awkwardly. It isn’t a date – it’s not anything, but he still doesn’t like to be interfered. Bruce waves and goes over to the next table, getting an order.

‘’_Ha detto una cotta_?’’ Tony says, and he sounds gleeful as he sets down his cup and leans forward. The Italian sounds sweet and melodic, and Stephen tilts his head at him. Tony is truly beautiful – his dark hair a bit messy, his eyes light and playful.

‘’You didn’t even understand any of that and I’m still so embarrassed,’’ Stephen mutters, trying to smile at Tony despite the heat he feels rise to his cheeks. ‘’Maybe it’s for the best you don’t know any English. If you had any idea what he’d just said, you would run away.’’

Tony tilts his head at him, something deepening in his eyes. Stephen wonders if he is wondering just as much at Stephen’s words as he is at Tony’s. But the Italian boy just smiles wryly at him. ‘’_No_,’’ he says quietly as he leans forward. Maybe he sees Stephen’s blush – maybe he just knows that Stephen hasn’t quite managed to stop thinking about him. Fact is, Tony grabs Stephen’s hand boldly, and just holds on for a while.

Stephen takes a sharp breath but lets him, softly entwining their fingers. They just sit like that for a few minutes, wordlessly testing out this progress. Stephen only watches their fingers, too afraid to look up at Tony. He doesn’t quite know how he got here, but he doesn’t exactly mind – well, he’d rather not do this at his work, maybe. But as for everything else – Tony intrigues him.

He pulls away after a few minutes. He still has that test coming up, and no matter how much he wants to spend time with Tony, he has to work on that. ‘’I’m sorry,’’ he says, as he finally meets the brown eyes. ‘’I have to – I’ve got an exam, and I need it to pass this course. Wait.’’

Tony’s eyes are burning on him as Stephen takes a napkin. He always carries a pen with him when he’s working, and he scribbles down his phone number on the fragile paper. It takes a few moments to make it legible, but then he hands it over to Tony.

There is a soft smile adorning Tony’s face, when he looks over the digits. Stephen’s heart beats wildly at that look. It’s odd to feel this excited about a guy he can’t even talk to – someone who doesn’t share his language. He doesn’t know anything about Tony except that being near him makes something catch in Stephen’s breath. But maybe – maybe Tony feels the same. His eyes skim over the paper, and he’s holding it a bit too tightly. Maybe it’s not weird, it’s just – what they are.

Feeling bold, Stephen leans forward to press a kiss against Tony’s cheek. ‘’Call me,’’ he mutters, tapping the paper for a second. He can only just see Tony’s bright grin as he walks away, growing red as a tomato.

Bruce grins at him from where he’s cleaning the cups. ‘’Way to go, Stephen,’’ he says, teasing but not unkind.

‘’Shut up,’’ he says, grabbing his bag from behind the counter and leaving to Bruce’s laughter and Tony’s burning eyes on his back.

~*~

It feels odd, waiting for a new text to come in from an unknown number. He has looked up a few Italian phrases in the last few weeks. He has a photographic memory so he knows a few ways to flirt by heart, but he wouldn’t know what any response would mean. And he’s been too afraid to use his new knowledge in the coffeeshop because – well, he’s not sure he would even be understandable. A good memory doesn’t extend to pronunciation. Besides, that would be letting Tony know that he’s been learning a bit of Italian for him.

He’s studying – and it’s working, too, the information still registers. But it’s more slow-going than usual, as he can’t help but check his phone every other minute. Even though no vibration comes, he keeps checking.

It’s as if he’s a love-struck teenage girl. Which is odd, because he is twenty-one and studying to become a doctor. Also, not a girl. He should be above all this, but his heart is still racing and his hands are sweaty as he turns the pages in his textbook.

His phone beeps somewhere just past seven thirty. It’s not Tony that time – it’s a group chat of people stressing over an assignment that Stephen has already finished. He closes it and mutes that chat, knowing they’ll continue to verbally assault the professor for at least half an hour for their own incompetence.

His phone beeps again twelve minutes later. He scrunches his nose at it, afraid to find someone else texting him again, but can’t help himself as he opens it.

_Hi_, is all it says. Unknown number – it can’t be anyone but Tony. Stephen isn’t in the habit of giving out his phone number to strangers, and no one else knows he’s expecting a text. Except maybe Bruce, but for all his teasing, he isn’t mean enough to send Stephen a text from a fake number in the name of a joke.

_Ciao_, he decides to text back. It’s almost all the Italian he knows. For all his anticipation, he had never fully thought about what he wanted to say when he got a message.

_Want us to meet tomorrow?_ That’s all the text says, but it’s enough. Stephen grins, already typing out a reply.

_Are you using Google Translate? Also, yes. When and where?_ He tries to keep his sentences simple and short, so it’ll be all the easier for Tony to translate them. If they’re really going to do this, he’ll have to help teach Tony some English. And he can start on learning Italian for real, with Tony’s help. That’s maybe looking too far ahead, but he imagines them sitting on a couch together, Stephen helping him read a book in English. Maybe Tony will laugh at a certain word, maybe Stephen will kiss him.

He just wants this like he has never wanted anything else.

_You can get me running Boston. I haven’t watched anything. Do you have to go to the job?_

I have to be in class until five and work until eight, he texts back, smiling at the odd translation that Tony must’ve found online. He hopes he won’t get too many assignments to work on. Juggling medical school and his job at the coffee shop has always been hard enough. He has been advised to drop his job to make more time for studying, but he has always managed so far without his grade dropping. Adding a romantic element to his life will disturb his carefully maintained schedule, but – this is Tony.

So when Tony texts back, Stephen can’t help but answer in the positive.

He has a date.

~*~

Tony is waiting for him to get out of work and just seeing his face is enough to make Stephen’s worries ebb away. Tony had sent him a few texts during the day, all in Google Translate-English, and Stephen had only replied a few short answers, not having had the time to go into more depth. Besides, he’s not sure how much Tony would understand of his messages anyway.

‘’Hi,’’ he says, feeling a bit awkward. He isn’t wearing his best outfit – his black work pants are faded and there’s spilled coffee on them, and his work shirt is atrocious at best. The bright red makes him look pale, Christine had informed him, and he feels self-conscious about it now. Tony looks as good as he always does, and Stephen feels a blush coming up just looking at him.

Tony beams at him, however, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. He’s certainly not a tactile person, but that’s only for the better. Stephen enjoys this kind of thing.

‘’_Mi sei mancato_,’’ Tony says, and Stephen smiles.

‘’I don’t know what you’re saying, but I didn’t know how much I liked hearing Italian before you came along,’’ he says sincerely.

Stephen isn’t good at being romantic – not outright, at least. He doesn’t want to give anyone the option to reject him and he has a hard time opening up to others, which may be the reason he has always had such a hard time getting out into the dating world. It hadn’t bothered him that much, but now – well, with Tony, he doesn’t have to pretend. He can say anything he wants to Tony, and he won’t understand. So Stephen can slowly learn to be open, maybe. Perhaps that’s just all he needed.

Tony smiles at him. ‘’_Dove_?’’ he asks, and Stephen has learnt that word in his research. Tony’s asking him where they are going.

Boston is most lively during the evenings, if you know where to go. Holding Tony’s hand makes him want to run through the entire city and tell everyone that he’s here with his boy, this person who’s made him feel things he hasn’t felt ever before. Instead, he just smiles and drags Tony along.

~*~

‘’Hotdogs,’’ Tony says dubiously, when Stephen gives him one.

Stephen laughs. ‘’I know your Italian cooking must be far superior to ours, but these are good for a boost whenever you need one,’’ he says. ‘’I’m a lousy chef, but if I need to get through the night to study, these taste like the best thing in the world. _Bello_.’’

Tony chuckles and takes a cautious first bite. His eyes light up as he takes a second one. ‘’_Te lo assicuro, il fast food non è la cosa peggiore al mondo_.’’

Stephen nods approvingly as he takes a bite of his own. It’s nearing midnight already as they walk away from the vendor. They’d walked through the city for a couple of hours, taking the subway sometimes to relieve their aching feet. Stephen had thought not speaking the same language would complicate the entire dating-thing by a lot, but it’d mattered increasingly less as the hours passed.

They’d pointed at things and laughed at tourists in their shirts with the American flag painted on it, lost in the city. Stephen had guided him to all his favourite places, never losing hold of his hand. Tony had taught him some words in Italian – most notably the curse words, which always come in handy – and Stephen had returned the favour.

The first step to learning a language is memorizing the nouns. Stephen’s preferred field isn’t anywhere near linguistics, but he’ll manage. He and Tony can learn from each other.

Tony takes another bite as he waits under the lamppost. Some mustard sits on the corner of his mouth, but he smiles so eagerly at Stephen. His eyes shine in the yellowish light that emits from above him and his hair looks so soft and curly. Stephen returns the smile and rubs a finger over Tony’s mouth before he can even think about it.

The moment he realizes, he starts internally. He shows his thumb to Tony, the sauce still sitting on it. ‘’You had mustard –‘’ he says clumsily, and wipes it off his jacket. ‘’I mean, I wasn’t –‘’

Tony leans up and kisses him.

Stephen responds immediately, curling his hand into Tony’s hair as he pulls him closer. Tony tastes like mustard and bread but he doesn’t mind. His lips are soft and wet, and a brush of his tongue surprises Stephen. Tony’s hands are on his hips, and Stephen never wants to leave.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when they stop kissing. He wouldn’t even be able to tell who pulled away – he’s pretty sure it wasn’t him but Tony is still so close to him, his brown eyes all Stephen can see, and he thinks it was just the need for air that forced them to stop.

‘’You really liked that hotdog, didn’t you?’’ he mutters, and kisses him again.

This time, it’s definitely Tony that breaks them apart. ‘’_Per quanto adori tutto ciò, si sta facendo tardi_,’’ he says. Despite Stephen having no idea of what his words mean, he thinks he gets the general gist. It’s getting late, after all. He has tutorials in the morning – who knows what Tony even does, here. It’d been too difficult to ask through the language barrier. Maybe he’s just playing tourist. Stephen has no idea how long he’s in America for.

What if he’s going to go back to Italy, soon? It’s an option he hadn’t even considered, and his heart falls. ‘’Please tell me you’re going to stay,’’ he whispers against Tony’s ear, pressing him close again. ‘’I don’t want you to leave yet.’’

Tony freezes in his arms for a while, and Stephen can’t explain why. ‘’Hotel,’’ Tony says in a different tone – something Stephen can’t quite place. Stephen knows he’s staying at some fancy hotel – he hadn’t quite gotten the name from Tony for a reason he can’t remember, right now.

‘’I’ll bring you back,’’ he says, trying to hold onto what they’re doing here. Tony’s shaking his head, but his soft smile has returned, smoothening his features.

‘’_Non so cosa sto facendo_,’’ he murmurs, and presses a feather-light kiss to Stephen’s pliant lips. ‘’Tomorrow?’’

Tomorrow. ‘’I can’t do tomorrow,’’ Stephen says, disappointed in himself. He has the day off work, but he’d promised Christine to help her with some assignments. ‘’I’ll text you, though. That’s fine, right?’’

Tony seems to understand the gist of what he’s saying, the way he’s looking at Stephen. Maybe that’s what makes it so easy – there’s very little that Stephen has to explain in depth. Tony seems to understand most of what he’s saying with a little explanation, and he’d barely had to use Google Translate at all. Even though he’d downloaded Italian onto it.

Despite the worries, Stephen walks home feeling lighter than he did before. Tony had kissed him, and they’d had a fun date. There’s bound to be another one – there’s no reason for them to stop now. And Stephen really enjoys the way Tony sometimes looks at him. A city full of wonders for him to explore, and Tony looks like Stephen’s the only thing worth looking at.

He still doesn’t know where Tony’s staying, or what he’s doing here, or how long he will be here. And yet, none of it feels like an insurmountable issue when he still remembers the taste of mustard on Tony’s lips.

~*~

Stephen tries to learn a bit of Italian, but between college, his job and the occasional dates with Tony, he doesn’t have a lot of time.

He’s still juggling everything, though he’s not certain he’ll manage for that much longer. The dates with Tony are everything he’s ever wanted, though, their easy companionship not needing any words. Probably for the best, because Tony isn’t learning English any faster than Stephen is Italian.

He thinks there’s something going on with Tony, though. He still doesn’t know when he’s leaving, or why he is in Boston at all. It may be that Tony doesn’t understand, but he’s tried to explain it in all the ways he could think of. At this point, he thinks Tony just doesn’t want him to know.

Maybe he’s trying to soften the blow for when he’s leaving. He doesn’t want to think about that, however, and Tony never indicates when he’s going back to Italy. Stephen is sure that Tony would tell him if he had to leave soon.

‘’_Mi piaci_,’’ he says on one date, when they’re sitting on the roof of an apartment. _I like you_. Tony would usually smile at his pronunciation whenever he says something – Stephen had expected him to do the same thing at this confession, with maybe a hint of something softer beneath his eyes and a tantalizing kiss. Instead, he’d turned his eyes downward. The tilt of his lips had seemed sad instead of amused, so Stephen lifts his chin to kiss him anyway.

Tony returns it but pulls back earlier than he usually does. ‘’_Tutto ha una fine_,’’ he says quietly, and breathes out. He leans against Stephen a bit, as if an apology for not kissing him properly. ‘’_È solo che mi piacerebbe che questa cosa non ce l’avesse_.’’ 

Stephen doesn’t know what he’s saying. He intends to look it up, but all he can make out from the words is one of them – _fine_. It means _end_, and he’s not sure he likes the sound of that. 

It’s probably nothing.

~*~

The texting is strange. Not that Stephen doesn’t enjoy hearing from Tony throughout the day, but it’s - well, they’re all so short. And Tony’s texts always seem like they’re pulled straight from Google Translate. Which wasn’t a surprise at the start, but Tony has been here for a few weeks already, and Stephen hasn’t seen the girl called Pepper since the day he met Tony. So how hasn’t Tony learnt _any_ English in the weeks he’s been here? How does he go by when Stephen isn’t there?

That’s the other thing.

‘’Where are you staying?’’ he tries to ask Tony when they’re sitting in his dorm room. Stephen’s roommate Wong is gone for a few days, so it’s an opportunity to be by themselves for a few hours.

Tony just glances at him blankly. He always does this - when it comes to questions like when he’s leaving or where he’s sleeping, Tony doesn’t understand. It’s odd, because he always smiles or responds something in Italian whenever Stephen is talking about something else.

It’s not the first time he’s asked, but he’s never received an answer so far. Not even when he translated the question in Italian - Tony just shrugs at him. 

Stephen doesn’t know what to make of it and he sighs. ‘’I just wish you’d tell me these things,’’ he mutters, but doesn’t hesitate to pull Tony closer to him. ‘’Why are you not telling me?’’

The idea that Tony is keeping secrets from him makes his skin crawl. There’s already enough between them - a language barrier, but these mysteries only make it worse. Tony always diverts his attention by kissing him, but Stephen never fully forgets.

~*~

‘’Shouldn’t you break up with him?’’ Christine asks over their shared tutorial. They’ve teamed up to examine a liver and see what is wrong with it. Except from the fact it’s not inside a live human, that is.

Stephen sighs. ‘’I thought about it,’’ he admits. ‘’But honestly - how bad could it be? Maybe he’s waiting for something. He’s not lying to me, he’s just not telling me everything. We’ve only been dating for a few weeks, so maybe he needs some more time.’’

‘’I’m still surprised you can date someone without speaking the same language,’’ Christine says, as she turns the liver upside down. ‘’Here. This isn’t normal, is it? It’s a bit discoloured.’’

Stephen makes a note on the pad before he continues. ‘’Talking would be nice, of course, but we have other ways to spend time. I like being around him, Christine, I do. He babbles a lot, and he doesn’t mind watching movies in English. I put on Italian subs for him. There’s plenty of things to share, even without words.’’

He’s not lying, though of course he misses the conversation. It’s hard to figure out anything about Tony without the ability to ask him in Italian. But Tony always seems so eager to listen to Stephen talk as well, so he does. Tony never seems bored or annoyed.

It’s not anything he can explain fully. Falling in love without being able to talk - it’s not the kind of thing he’d have believed in before all of this. Then again, he didn’t know Tony before.

‘’Are you sure?’’ Christine asks, now fully focused on him.

He shrugs. ‘’As much as I can be.’’

~*~

Tony looks bothered, next time they see each other. ‘’Stephen?’’ he asks, standing right in front of the coffee shop when Stephen’s shift is over. He’s wringing his hands, the top of his nose a bit red from the cold wind.

‘’_Sì_?’’ Stephen asks, smiling. Tony usually smiles at his attempts to speak Italian, but today it only seems to serve to make him look melancholy.

Tony just shakes his head and comes closer, lying his head on Stephen’s chest. ‘’_Ti perderò_,’’ he whispers. Stephen can barely hear him, but chooses to ignore it and hug him back.

‘’I missed you,’’ he says, and Tony just huddles closer to him. The rest of the day, Tony barely smiles. Stephen doesn’t know what’s wrong.

~*~

He’s just coming out of a tutorial when Christine pulls him away. ‘’Stephen, there’s something you need to know,’’ she says. Her lips are pressed together, but her tone is quiet. She’s not mad at him, he notes immediately – but she’s mad at someone else. He can’t think of what the problem could be.

‘’I have to work tonight,’’ he protests as she takes his arm. ‘’I wanted to meet with Tony in an hour, can’t you let me – Christine, what’s the hurry?’’

‘’Just come,’’ she says, and drags him further along. Stephen could stop her, of course, but he knows better than to try to. Christine is his dearest friend and he’s never seen her this upset – her frown hasn’t left her face since she found him, and it’s clear she waited outside for him to finish.

They aren’t anywhere near where Stephen ever comes when she stops. ‘’These rooms aren’t for our department,’’ he reminds her. A swift look into his direction shuts him up.

‘’I’m sorry about this,’’ she says, and opens one of the doors. ‘’But you had to know.’’

Stephen peers into the room. Tony’s standing there, leaning against a teacher’s desk. His face is pale and withdrawn, and he’s staring down at his hands though he must have heard the door opening. ‘’Tony?’’ he asks, eyeing his boyfriend. He turns back to Christine when Tony doesn’t answer. ‘’Christine, what’s going on? Why is Tony here?’’

‘’Ask him yourself,’’ she says sternly, but turns to Tony before he can open his mouth. ‘’Either you tell him, or I will. And it’s not going to be pretty apologies if I do it.’’

Stephen frowns. ‘’Tony?’’ he asks carefully.

Tony looks up at that. His eyes are dark with the same emotion Stephen has seen flash in his eyes before – only ever there for moments before they were gone again. He can see the desperation and sorrow now. Tony pulls at his shirt, looking to Christine again for a moment.

‘’Well?’’ she presses.

‘’He doesn’t know any English,’’ Stephen interferes, ‘’you can’t expect him to –‘’

‘’I didn’t mean for it to be this way.’’

It’s not Christine who is speaking. Stephen whips back to look at Tony, but he’s not meeting his eyes. He’s still looking down. ‘’What?’’ he says, his mind moving too fast for him to keep up with. A conclusion comes to his mind – one too far-fetched to contemplate.

‘’I’m sorry,’’ Tony says, and his voice is an unaccented English. He sounds like any American would – his voice low and gravelly, unlike when he speaks in Italian. Stephen can only stare. ‘’I just – I thought it was just a bit of harmless fun, at first. And then it stopped being harmless, and I didn’t know how to tell you.’’

There is nothing Stephen can say. He turns to Christine, his voice catching. ‘’I stumbled into him talking on the phone,’’ she says, her voice completely neutral even as she stares daggers at Tony. ‘’He’s been lying. He’s been lying all this time.’’

‘’It wasn’t a lie,’’ Tony protests, and it’s still so unreal to hear another language than the melodic Italian from him. Stephen can hardly believe it’s him. ‘’It was – as I said, I didn’t mean for things to become so complicated. I’ve been on the verge of telling you a thousand times, Stephen, I promise to you, I meant to. It’s just – God, after so many meetings, how do I tell you this?’’

Stephen closes his eyes. He can’t see Tony pleading like this – now the eyes are fully on his and it’s unbearable. If he only listens, he can pretend it’s someone else. He can pretend it’s not Tony who’s lied to him this badly.

‘’You lied to me from the start,’’ he says quietly. ‘’Was it ever anything but a lie to you?’’

‘’I just _told_ you, I didn’t mean for it to be like this –‘’

All the things that’d been said in English, before he didn’t even know Tony well. Before he’d even shown some interest. Bruce, joking about a crush right in front of him. All the things Stephen had admitted only because he thought Tony wouldn’t know. He feels so embarrassed.

‘’_Leave_,’’ he says, feeling his chest tighten. ‘’And don’t come back.’’

Tony looks as if he’s been struck. ‘’Stephen –‘’

‘’These past few weeks, and I thought language was the one thing that stood in between me getting to know you,’’ Stephen says, and tries not to bleed out his heart on the spot. ‘’And all this time, it was you just playing a game.’’

‘’I’m sorry,’’ Tony insists. ‘’I am. I mean it. Look, I know that it was wrong and I should’ve told you way earlier, but if you just let me _explain_ –‘’

A humourless laugh forces its way past Stephen’s lips. ‘’Leave,’’ he repeats. ‘’Now that I have the choice, I think I don’t want you to talk to me after all.’’

Tony just looks at him – really looks. Stephen remembers the shine in his eyes from the lamppost, right before they’d kissed the first time. He thinks of the time on the roof, and Tony whispering to him in Italian. He’d said something about the end, and only now does he recognize the tone of his voice as desperation.

‘’Alright,’’ Tony eventually says, breaking the silence in the classroom. It doesn’t get rid of the tension, but it does feel like an end. ‘’I’ll go.’’

He brushes past Stephen and Christine, and lets the door fall shut behind him. Stephen lets out a shuddering breath before he leans against the wall, pressing his fingers against his temple in an attempt to alleviate the sudden headache he feels coming up. ‘’I think I’m going to be sick,’’ he says after a few minutes. ‘’All this time –‘’

‘’I’m sorry,’’ Christine says apologetically.

‘’It’s not your fault.’’

‘’I’ll work your shift for you.’’

Stephen breathes out. A part of him wants to refuse her and go to work anyway. It’ll keep him busy and keep his thoughts away from Tony – except he still remembers the booth Tony sat in, and he’s ordered almost every drink on the menu by now. The coffeeshop is not the place he’ll escape the memories for now, and he’s been so busy for the past few weeks that he can feel himself crashing.

‘’Thanks,’’ he says instead. She just smiles mournfully at him, and Stephen falls into her arms.

~*~

Tony texts him. A lot. Stephen has muted him, though he wonders at himself why he doesn’t simply block Tony. It’d certainly be easier to escape it.

Maybe it’s a form of self-punishment. He keeps looking at Tony’s old texts, the English that has been pulled straight from Google Translate by the looks of it, and he can’t help but think about the deliberate deception and how deeply Tony must’ve thought about how to keep up his lie. The new texts are completely grammatical English, Tony pleading for Stephen to come back. Continuously apologizing, but Stephen isn’t ready to forgive.

When Tony starts calling, he _does_ block him. He’s not sure he can stop himself, otherwise. Whether that is about stopping himself from yelling at Tony or for falling into Tony’s arms, he doesn’t know.

~*~

The next few days he focuses completely on his university work. He’s called in sick to his work, just to get his mind right before going back. Briefly, he contemplates quitting, but then decides that Tony’s lies shouldn’t have that big of an influence in his life. It’s been only a few weeks, after all. He can’t care this much about Tony yet.

Except he feels like he does, and he doesn’t know what that says about him. Poor Stephen Strange, putting himself out there for the first time in ages and falling in love with the first guy with pretty eyes and a kind smile.

It takes a week for him to return to his job. He’s not sure how to feel when his entire shift comes and goes without the barest hint of Tony.

~*~

Life returns to normal, without Tony around. Bruce and Christine’s pitying glances slowly disappear as the weeks pass by. Stephen pretends he doesn’t still think about the Italian boy with the brightness that surrounded him and the way his laugh sounded. Laughter sounds the same in any language, and in his dreams, Tony starts talking English to him, and it’s normal.

He hates that he still feels so much. He never says anything about Tony to any of his friends, and they must have assumed that he’s over it. In fact, Stephen thinks that may still take him a little longer. Despite their attempts to encourage him to get back to dating, he stays by himself. He doesn’t think anyone will be as appealing to him as Tony was.

Maybe this is why he isn’t surprised to see Tony sitting in the coffeeshop five weeks after Stephen told him to leave. Tony has never really left, in his mind.

‘’I can’t get him to leave,’’ Bruce says nervously when Stephen appears. ‘’He keeps insisting he needs to talk to you, but I can’t throw him out here. He’s never actually done something wrong inside the coffeeshop.’’

Stephen’s eyes don’t leave Tony’s. He can’t read Tony’s expression, as he sits there – but the way his heart starts beating fast is not unexpected. ‘’I’ll deal with it,’’ he says evenly. ‘’Can you give me a couple more minutes before I take over your shift?’’

‘’Sure, take as long as you need,’’ Bruce tells him quietly, and disappears to handle some other customers. Stephen isn’t wearing his apron yet, so he won’t be dealing with anyone else just yet.

Tony looks just as Stephen remembers him. He’d hoped that he had embellished the boy in his memories, but that’s not true at all. It only makes it harder. Stephen takes the seat opposite Tony’s, waiting for him to say something. Tony just breathes out, leaning on the table.

‘’You’re not going to yell at me?’’ he asks wryly.

Stephen shrugs. ‘’Will you stay if I simply ask you to leave, or do I _need_ to yell? Because I’d really hate causing a scene at my work.’’

‘’I know I shouldn’t have come here,’’ Tony starts, leaning forward. There’s a frantic energy to his movement that tells Stephen that he hasn’t been sleeping enough. ‘’I just – I got back to Italy, a few weeks back. I thought it’d be enough to forget. I thought – you know, I fucked up, huge. I’m not saying I haven’t. But it was only a few weeks, and I thought – well, it can’t mean that much. Not if it’s only been such a short while. But I can’t stop thinking about you, and that look on your face when I kissed you, but then I always remember the way you looked when you found out the truth. And that’s not the look of a guy who doesn’t care. I _know_ you care. I shouldn’t know, because you didn’t mean for me to know.’’

‘’Why did you do it?’’ Stephen interrupts him.

Tony leans back. ‘’Would you believe me if I said it was cowardice?’’ he says sheepishly. ‘’Stephen, I know a lot of – well, not really savoury types. I’ve had some bad exes. And I saw you looking at me, and I just wanted to know if you liked me. Wanted to see if you were a good guy when you thought I couldn’t know what you were saying. And when it started, and you said such sweet things – I didn’t want it to stop. I didn’t want you to think I was an asshole.’’

‘’Can’t you go out and meet some nicer people?’’ Stephen says dryly.

Tony shrugs. ‘’It’s rich-kid life. We’re thrown in with the entire selfish lot. I was shielded from the majority of it because I lived in Italy, but it still happened now and then. My dad – well, the business he runs leaves no place for kind-hearted people. Not for doctors or philanthropists or anything of the like.’’

‘’I can’t decide if you’re here to apologize or to make excuses,’’ Stephen says, thinking about the fact that this is the longest conversation he’s ever had with Tony.

Tony winces, folding his hands into his lap. Stephen has never seen him so insecure – Tony has always seemed so lively and bright. It almost hurts, but he can’t just cave because of this. These are all excuses – reasons for doing the wrong thing.

‘’I’m not here to do either,’’ Tony says, looking up determinedly even as he bites his lower lip. ‘’That’s not – I can’t do this. I know I’m fluent in English, but I’m still no good at _words_. That’s to say, Italian is easier for me. But I need you to understand what I’m saying, so English it is. I know I need to apologize. I’d sit here on my knees and beg for you to forgive me, if that would help. I think that’s the exact kind of thing you don’t want me to do, though. So I’m going to do something else instead.’’

‘’And what’s that?’’ Stephen asks. Tony’s rambling is almost surprising, but then again – he did a lot of talking in Italian, too. Back then, Stephen had listened to everything he said without hearing. This time, he almost filters through the words to get at Tony’s meaning. It’s both different and familiar.

Tony doesn’t look away from him for what feels like the longest minute of Stephen’s life. With a deep breath, he takes a paper and a pen from his pocket and writes down something. 

‘’This,’’ Tony starts, ‘’is my address in Boston. Fun fact, I’m starting at MIT next semester. My name – my full, actual name – is Tony Stark. I don’t like going by it, because as you might suspect, yes, I’m Howard Stark’s son. He’s an ass, by the way, and I don’t feel like elaborating on it. But I don’t want to lie to you ever again.’’

Stephen stares for a few moments. Howard Stark is a name that everyone in America knows. This means Tony is more than just rich – he’s loaded enough to make finding a job unnecessary. And yet, that doesn’t seem like the Tony he knows.

‘’But you’re –‘’ he starts.

Tony interrupts him, shaking his head as he pushes the piece of paper towards him. ‘’Stephen, I’ve grown up as Tony Carbonell. It’s the name I prefer, though my dad didn’t let me keep it forever. Here, take this. I’m just – I don’t know what else to do. So I’m just going to start over. I’m Tony, I like my coffee with more sugar than my dentist would like me to have, and I think you’re pretty adorable. I’m Italian but I know English, though I’d be happy to let you stutter at me for the remainder of my days without saying a word. I’ve been thinking about you, and I’d love to take you on a date and kiss you after you just had a hotdog.’’

Stephen takes a few breaths and looks down at the scribbled note. ‘’And that’s it?’’ he asks.

Tony shrugs. ‘’I’ll give you one thing more. It can be either a final memory for you, if that’s what you want it to be, or a promise. That’s up to you, though. So, here it comes, without falsehoods and without hope: _ti amo_.’’

A silence falls between them. Tony’s eyes are almost golden in the light of the afternoon – much lighter than they were at night under the lamppost. Stephen sits still. He knows exactly what Tony just told him, and they’re words he hasn’t let himself think. _I love you_, he’d said. It’s a phrase Stephen knows the answers to, but he can’t make himself say anything yet. His mind is whirling with responses, and still he doesn’t think he could even say a word correctly in English, let alone Italian.

Tony rises from the chair, and the sound of it scraping against the floor starts Stephen out of his thoughts.

‘’_Sono innamorato di te_,’’ he says, and the Italian flows like it always did in Stephen’s memories. ‘’I can’t say it in English, Stephen. But I can say it to you, and only you. So if there’s any part of you that still feels – well, like the way I’d hoped you felt at first, you know where to find me. I won’t hold it against you if you don’t. So either take the memory or remember the promise. _Caro mio, ti voglio bene_.’’

With that, he leaves the coffeeshop. Stephen can do little but stare after him, his heart beating with possibility. Bruce comes to stand next to him, watching where Tony disappeared. ‘’What’d he say?’’ he asks softly.

‘’That he loves me,’’ Stephen answers, and feels his fingers tighten their hold on the paper Tony gave him. ‘’And he made me a promise.’’

Bruce just stands there, hand on Stephen’s shoulder for a few moments. He doesn’t ask Stephen how he feels about it, or what he’s going to do. He doesn’t ask about the paper in his hand and he doesn’t ask if Stephen feels the same. In any case, there is no way to respond to that last question. Stephen just watches and takes a deep breath, folding the paper and putting it in his pocket. These aren’t decisions to be made right now.

Stephen rises from the chair and goes to work, trying to get Tony out of his mind.

~*~

He doesn’t talk to Christine about Tony, though he can see she’s dying to ask him for his thoughts. He already knows what she’ll say, though; she’ll be rational about this. _He lied once_, she’ll say. _He’ll lie again_. She’ll appeal to his logic, asking him to be sensible. And if Stephen had any common sense, he’d listen to her. She’d tell him that he doesn’t know Tony that well - that he’s basing his feelings off nothing but a few dates without conversation and the apology of a liar.

She’s probably right about all of it. The thing is - Stephen is tired of being rational all the time. He’s tired of telling himself that his emotions aren’t worth listening to. It’s what had kept him grounded all the time, but with Tony, he’d learnt to _fly_, and now he doesn’t like the ground as much as he used to.

Maybe he doesn’t know Tony. Maybe it’ll all go up in smoke. But he can’t stop thinking about Tony, and he’s never felt this way. What he felt for Tony goes beyond words, beyond language - a smile was enough. It said all the things he needed to be said. And he always understood Tony’s meaning, even if he didn’t understand the words. It’s something that _defies_ any rationality and he wants more. More of Tony.

_He’ll lie again_. But Tony made a promise, and Stephen can see past the rambling and know the true meaning, just like he did when it was all Italian instead of English. In that regard, nothing has changed. _Ti voglio bene_, Tony had said. _Ti amo_. Two ways of telling Stephen that he loved him, and it’s not a lie. Stephen knows that.

He knows exactly what he wants to do. What kept him from doing it so far is the knowledge that it’s maybe not the best idea. But damn rationality - he’s far past thinking this through. _He made me a promise_, he’d told Bruce. Which means that he already knew what he wanted to do, doesn’t it? 

Either a memory or a promise, and Stephen had immediately chosen, even if he hadn’t realized it at that moment. It’s enough to go on, for him. 

~*~

The house isn’t exactly small. Stephen wonders for a second if he’s at the right address, but the smudged handwriting on the note is clear enough to make out the words. Besides, Tony is Howard Stark’s son. There’s little doubt that he will be swimming in money.

He rings the bell, shuffling in front of the red door. He could’ve called, but this is better. It takes a few moments before the door is answered - he’s thinking about ringing again when a familiar face appears. 

‘’Stephen Strange,’’ Pepper says, and doubt settles in Stephen’s chest again. He has no idea what she is to Tony, but her being here -

‘’Hi,’’ he says lamely. ‘’I’m, uh - is Tony here?’’

He can see her hesitate for a second. He wonders what she thinks of the entire situation, if she’s given it any thought at all. He hadn’t seen her since that first meeting, but that could have had several reasons.

‘’He’s here,’’ she says eventually. ‘’Look, Stephen - I know what Tony did was wrong. He’s very aware of it, as well, and you don’t know how much I’ve heard him beating himself up about it. That doesn’t make anything better, I know, but Tony doesn’t have many people who honestly care about him. I just thought he didn’t expect to find… you.’’

‘’You’re not taking me being here as a good sign, are you?’’ he says wryly. ‘’He apologized. Repeatedly. I know he feels bad. I’m not here to make it worse.’’

She sighs, and pushes the door open further, letting him in. ‘’I just needed to be certain. I’d understand your anger, believe me, I would. Tony is the most infuriating person I’ve ever met, but he’s also the kindest friend someone could have. I don’t want him to be hurt.’’

‘’I’ll try not to,’’ he assures her. He’s still gripping the note with the address, and he puts it back in his pocket. His hands feel oddly empty without it - should he have brought chocolate? Flowers? What kind of flower could possibly mean ‘I forgive you for lying to me and I want to tell you that I love you too even though we’ve barely talked two times’.

He should’ve worked in a flower shop. Or he could’ve brought coffee.

‘’Second door on the right,’’ Pepper informs him. ‘’You might want to turn the music off.’’

Stephen eyes her for a moment before nodding. The room isn’t hard to find, but it also isn’t what Stephen expected at all. He’d pictured a posh room with large white couches and a fireplace - something that fits in more with the rest of the home. Instead, there’s metallic benches and a wrecked car in the middle of the room. Tony’s underneath it, only his legs visible to Stephen.

The AC/DC blasts loud through the room, and Stephen winces. ‘’Tony?’’ he tries, but no answer comes. Probably, he hasn’t even heard. ‘’Tony? Can you turn the music off?’’

The music stops without warning. Stephen turns to see if Pepper has entered and done it for him, but there’s no one here. ‘’JARVIS!’’ Tony whines. ‘’What’s that for? I was listening to that!’’

‘’You have a visitor, sir,’’ a British voice comes from - well, from where? Stephen turns around to look for something - a person, a robot, anything, but there’s nothing to see. When he turns back, he sees Tony sitting on the floor, staring at him.

‘’You came,’’ are the first words out of Tony’s mouth as he helps himself up from the floor, wiping his hands on a dirty cloth. There’s oil in his hair and he’s wearing nothing but sweatpants and a baggy shirt. He’s never looked more beautiful.

‘’I’m here to collect something,’’ Stephen says, and his smile feels awkward. He wishes he was better at this - wishes he had some experience with romantic gestures. As it is, he has Tony. Maybe it’s all he’ll ever have.

He’s strangely okay with that.

Tony licks his lips. The gesture is familiar, though the rest of the situation is not. ‘’Oh. So you’re not -’’

‘’A promise,’’ Stephen hastily adds, because Tony’s looking heartbroken. ‘’I came to collect a promise. From you. _Ti amo anch’io_.’’

_I love you, too_. Tony exhales quietly, taking a step closer. ‘’You’re not pronouncing that correctly,’’ he says, but there’s no mistaking that tender hope in his eyes. 

Stephen shrugs. ‘’Guess you’ll have to teach me. I’ve only been learning for a few weeks, so you should cut me some slack. My teacher suddenly disappeared, you see.’’

A shaky breath comes from Tony as he comes even nearer. ‘’Guess he’s a bit of a lousy teacher.’’

‘’I don’t know,’’ Stephen says thoughtfully. ‘’He’s an idiot, and occasionally an asshole. I seem to have grown fond of him, though. And he’s a pretty good kisser.’’

‘’Yeah?’’ Tony says, and he’s leaning up. This time, Stephen meets him halfway. Their mouths collide, and they hold onto each other, unwilling to let go. Tony’s pressed against him and there’s probably motor oil getting on Stephen, but he can’t care about that. How did he ever think he could let this go?

He certainly can’t, anymore.

‘’_Sei un idiota_,’’ he mutters when they draw apart, still pushing his nose against Tony’s cheek. Tony sniggers at the insult. 

‘’I’m fine being an idiot,’’ he says, pecking Stephen’s lips. ‘’Got you back, didn’t I?’’

‘’Yeah, but that wasn’t because of the idiot part, asshole,’’ Stephen says, but can’t stop himself from kissing Tony again. ‘’That was because of the romancing-part. Which you somehow also happen to be good at.’’

‘’It’s the Italian side of me,’’ Tony says gleefully. ‘’Didn’t get the cooking skills, but I got the romance down pat. God, I’m so glad you’re back. _Ti voglio per sempre accanto a me_.’’

‘’I don’t know what that means.’’

Tony just smiles - soft and secretive. ‘’So I guess we’ll have to start up your Italian lessons, don’t we?’’

Stephen shakes his head, though he can’t help but feel that his amusement is plain on his face. He leans down close enough for his lips to touch Tony’s, but stops just before kissing him. ‘’Maybe later,’’ he whispers. Tony leans up, apparently agreeing with him.

He just holds Tony, and listens to the Italian whispers in between the kisses. He may not know what the words mean, but he knows what Tony wants to tell him anyway. Some things go beyond language, and this is one of them.

‘’_Ti adoro_,’’ he murmurs back, and repeats himself in English. _I adore you_. Even if he’d spoken all the languages in the world, it wouldn’t be enough to express how he feels. So he kisses Tony instead, using the one general language in all the world.

And Tony kisses him back, as all words become unnecessary.

  
Art by [tiredsnicat](https://tiredsnicat.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> _Translations:_
> 
> Mi sta fissando. È anche davvero carino. Credi che gli piaccia? // He’s staring at me. He’s really cute, too. Do you think he likes me?
> 
> Non dargli fastidio, digli solo cosa vuoi ordinare. // Don’t bother him, just give him your order.
> 
> Era così per dire. Aspetta, voglio sapere se pensa che io sia carino. Lasciagli pensare che non sappia parlare inglese. Digli che voglio la bevanda più dolce che hanno. // I’m just saying. Wait, I want to know if he thinks I’m cute. Just let him think I don’t know any English. Tell him I want the sweetest drink they have.
> 
> Sì, ma non è quello che volevo. // Yes, but it wasn’t what I wanted.
> 
> Sei carino. // You’re cute.
> 
> A cosa stai pensando? // What are you thinking?
> 
> Grazie, tesoro // Thank you, cutie.
> 
> Ti preferisco così, credo. // I prefer you like this, I think.
> 
> Ha detto una cotta? // A crush, he said?
> 
> No. // Don’t.
> 
> Mi sei mancato. // I missed you.
> 
> Dove? // Where?
> 
> Te lo assicuro, il fast food non è la cosa peggiore al mondo. // I’ll grant it to you, the fast-food isn’t the worst.
> 
> Per quanto adori tutto ciò, si sta facendo tardi // As much as I adore this, it’s getting late.
> 
> Non so cosa sto facendo. // I don’t know what I’m doing.
> 
> Mi piaci. // I like you.
> 
> Tutto ha una fine. // All things end.
> 
> È solo che mi piacerebbe che questa cosa non ce l’avesse. // I just wish this thing wouldn’t end.
> 
> Ti perderò. // I’m going to lose you.
> 
> Sono innamorato di te. // I’m in love with you.
> 
> Caro mio, ti voglio bene. // Darling, I love you.
> 
> Ti amo anch’io. // I love you, too.
> 
> Sei un idiota. // You’re an idiot.
> 
> Ti voglio per sempre accanto a me. // I want you to stay with me forever.
> 
> also, the texts Tony sent were translated into Italian by Mara and then we let Google Translate do its magic. Fun times.
> 
> Italian Tony is a headcanon I can never have enough of. If you feel the same and you haven't read it already, I will shamelessly promote my other fic which has Italian Tony, [E senza dire parole nel mio cuore ti porterò](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15675402). I hope all of you enjoyed this one!


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